


The Detective and the Pathologist

by pirateswaan



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Fluff, One Shot Collection, Parent!lock, S3 Alternative Ending, prompt collection, requests are open
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-18 19:12:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9398999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateswaan/pseuds/pirateswaan
Summary: Collection of Sherlock/Molly one shots/prompts. Some of them will be smutty. Definitely lol. Sucker for smut and all that. Tags/Characters will be added frequently and Rating might change. If you have any prompts, simply send me an ask ontumblr.





	1. "Your cat keeps on stealing my spot on our bed and every time I try to lay down, it hisses at me."

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! After some time of me thinking about doing this for Sherlock and Molly, I've finally decided to just go for it. These two deserve some more stories out there and if I have to write them myself, so be it. If you want to request something you can either do it here or on my tumblr: ssherlock.tumblr.com .  
> Now let's start with a fluffy Sherlock/Molly/Toby one because I'm missing my cat right now and writing that story made it better lol.

When Molly woke up on a rainy Sunday morning, all she wanted to do was snuggle into the arms of Sherlock Holmes and sleep till midday, but instead, she was greeted with a cold right bedside.

She opened her eyes and looked around the room.

“Sherlock?”, her voice was still hoarse from sleep. The room was illuminated enough to realize that she was, indeed, alone in her bedroom.

Her head fell back onto the pillow and she stared up at the ceiling.

They hadn't been a couple for long, but every time she woke up alone, she felt a tinge of sadness. She shouldn't expect too much. The fact that he wanted to be in a relationship at all was amazing as it was.. but Molly couldn't help it that her expectations were always up in the clouds.

After ten more minutes under the warm cover of her blankets, she got out of bed, put on her pink, fluffy slippers and gave Toby a kiss on the head when she walked past him. 

Now that Sherlock wasn't here anymore, the cat had stretched out on his bedside like a king. Who could blame him? Molly treated him like one. Which is probably while he became fatter every year.

A yawn escaped her and she made her way to the kitchen, deciding to make herself some tea. What she didn't expect, was Sherlock sitting on one of her bar stools, a laptop in front of him on the counter and still dressed in last night's clothes, only with the addition of his blue dressing gown.

“Wh..- Sherlock? You're still here?”, she was surprised. 

“Your fucking cat keeps on stealing my spot on our bed and every time I try and lay down, it hisses at me. My back hurts from sleeping on the floor.”

Molly went over to the kettle to make both of them a cup of tea, feeling a tiny bit bad for Sherlock. But only a tiny bit.

“You slept on the floor?”, she tried not to think too much about the “our” bed. And failed, obviously. She'd think about this for the next week. She just knew it.

“Yes, Molly. That's what I just said, isn't it?”, the young woman couldn't help but giggle. He sounded like a teenager. 

Rather sweet, to be honest. 

Once the tea was all done, she prepared it how he liked it and placed it on front of him. His laptop now closed and shoved off to the side.

“Here. To make it aaaall better.”, she laughed.

“Are you mocking me? If demons were to exist, your cat would be one!”, Molly gave him a peck on the cheek.

Said demon joined them in the kitchen and rubbed his head on Molly's slippers, clearly wanting her to give him the attention she was currently giving Sherlock.

The pathologist picked her beloved pet up and hugged him tight.

“How can you say that about him? Look, he's the most precious thing. Isn't that right, my love?”, Toby kept purring, which made Sherlock roll his eyes.

After Molly had fed Toby, she came up behind Sherlock and kissed his neck.

“How about I make it up to you and give you a massage?”, she already pressed her fingers into his back muscles. Bless her for studying medicine. She knew just where to press to make him silently moan.

*****

An hour later, the two of them were laying in bed together, naked and covered in sweat.

“Well.. that escalated quickly.”, she said with a smile on her lips. 

His face was laying in the crock of her neck and her hand was combing through his wild curls, both of them still trying to regain their breath.

When they felt another weight on the bed, none of them looked up to know that Toby came back to claim his side of the bed. 

But Sherlock wouldn't have any of it. Not while he was half laying on a naked Molly Hooper. He had no plans of getting up.

But Toby didn't give up so easily either. He started to hiss at the detective, like he was his biggest enemy (Which might even be true, who knows).

“Sherlock, as much as I'd like to stay in this position with you, I feel like you should slide over a bit, unless you want my cat to scratch you.”

“He wouldn't.”

“Want to bet on it?”

******

Half an hour later, Molly was cleaning the cuts on her boyfriend's legs, which were deeper than normally. She suspected that Sherlock was in fact, Toby's number one enemy.

She looked like she wanted to say “I told you so”, but the dirty look he threw her was enough to keep her quiet, but not enough to stop the huge grin on her face.


	2. Molly Hooper + Sunday Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly Hooper has always loved Sunday mornings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another quick piece of fluff, parent!lock this time, because I love parent!lock so so so much and you'll probably read a lot about Oliver, Evie and the third baby Holmes in these one shots!

Molly Hooper has always loved Sunday mornings.

When she was a little girl, her father used to wake her up every Sunday morning to enjoy a nice and big breakfast, before they went to the park and spent hours there, doing all sorts of things.

In the earlier years, it was mostly her spending time at a playground, while her mother and father were lying on the grass, watching their little girl run around chasing butterflies.

From time to time, her father had to get up and push her on the swings when she was sitting there with that demanding pout that he could never have refused.

Later on, they'd go on bike rides or on a hike, whatever tickled their pickle at that day.

When she was in college, she still loved Sunday mornings.

It was the day she decided to give her studies a rest for a little while and just relax.

She'd go for a nice walk, get some tea on the way and then sit on a bench and read a book in the park. 

Molly had always been hard working and she quite liked being that way, but even she had to calm down from time to time and just.. breathe a little.

Those sundays did wonders for her stress level and she was convinced that those were vital for her to graduate as well as she had.

And now, at her current age, she still loved Sunday mornings, probably more than ever before, if that was even possible

Now, she was woken up by her five year old son, jumping onto the bed. 

And of course, he would not just lie down beside her and sleep again, he'd start jumping up and down, driving her nuts. 

“MUUUMMY! DAAAADDY! WAKE UP!”, Molly's first instinct was to shut her eyes closer. He sounded so much like Sherlock, even at the young age he was at right now. 

The scene he had caused had apparently gotten attention, as another weight was added onto the bed and Molly felt the tiny hands of her daughter on her body.

“Mummy?”, her voice, compared to the voice of her son, was so incredibly soft. So.. Not Sherlock. But it had been obvious from the beginning that the young girl would have the mind of her father and the kindness of her mother. The perfect mix, probably. Hopefully.

Sometimes she could barely even believe any of it. That she was a mother. A wife. Happy, for being both.

If someone had told her ten years ago that she'd someday marry Sherlock Holmes and have a family with him, she would've sent them to a shrink. 

And yet, here she was, right next to him. Right where she belonged.

“Yes, love?” Molly turned around to look at the three, almost four year old properly.

“Cuddles?” the young girl with the brown hair and blue eyes, who would turn the boys crazy someday, looked like she was roughly awakened by her brother. Her eyes already held tears in them.

Every time something like that happened, she needed one of her parents to hold her until she fell asleep again.

Molly certainly wouldn't complain. She loved her little girl to bits and if she needed that same procedure when she was 20, so be it.

The young mother smiled sweetly at her daughter and opened her arms, so Evie could snuggle into her mother's embrace. She planted a kiss on her head and then turned to look at Sherlock, who smiled at her.

She hadn't even realized that he had been awake and watched the display between mother and daughter. 

But then again, she doubted anyone could sleep through her son's screeching in the morning.

Oliver, who had gotten sleepy again, was curled up on his father's chest, ready to doze off.

A quick glance to the clock on her nightstand made her realize that they'd have about 15 more minutes, before the youngest Holmes would wake up. 

“15 minutes,” he said, without checking the clock, unlike her.

“Show-off,” she replied with a smile that held so much love for him. Her show-off. Hers.

Molly Hooper has always loved Sunday mornings and she always would.


	3. Back from the Dead (again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock left for his suicide mission, but not before having a proper goodbye with Molly. Five years later, he comes back and finds out that Molly isn't on her own anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one's quite long compared to the other two, but I couldn't stop myself. I'm always so happy when a flow like this happens, so I didn't dare to stop haha. Anyways, my HC is that he actually said goodbye to Molly before he went on that plane so I decided to twist it a little more. (I thought about writing out the sex scene, but then decided that I'd rather focus on the story. But don't worry, the smut is on the way)

_5 years ago._

He knew that it was supposed to be a suicide mission. Mycroft might not use that word, but they both knew how it was going to end.

John and Mary would accompany him to the plane, but there was still one person he couldn't leave behind without saying a word. 

And he was currently knocking on her door.

A few moments later, Molly Hooper opened and basically beamed at Sherlock.

She was so different compared to him. Everytime he tried to describe it, the only thing that came to mind was: 'I am the darkness, she is my light'.

“Sherlock! What are you doing here?”, she let him in and led him to the kitchen where she was currently making tea. When he was asked if he'd like to have a cup as well, he shook his head.

“I'm here to say goodbye, Molly.”

A normal person would ask if they were going on a trip, or maybe they'd have a job offer or whatever.

But if Sherlock Holmes made his way over to Molly's apartment to say goodbye, instead of simply sending her a text or calling her, it meant nothing good.

She abandoned the steaming hot water and walked towards him, but still kept a distance.

“What's wrong? What happened? What can I do?”

“I'm afraid it's too late for that. I thought a personal farewell was in order.”

“Stop this, Sherlock. Just.. stop,” Molly took a few steps forward now and placed her hands on his arms, looking into his beautiful blue eyes with such desperation. “Please tell me what's wrong. Whatever happened, we can figure it out. You figured it out last time. We can do it again.”

The fact that someone like her cared so much for someone like him still drove him mad. It was not logical. In any way. 

“There's no coming back from this one,” when she wanted to protest again, he took both of her hands that were still on his arms in his own.

“Please don't leave me. Please,” she felt the tears that were threatening to fall, but couldn't care less. 

There she was, the woman who counted, the one who mattered the most to him, the one who loved him, despite his flaws, maybe even because of his flaws and her biggest fear was losing him. Of having to live in a world where Sherlock Holmes didn't exist anymore. Where he didn't come knocking on her door at three in the morning, because he was bored. Where he didn't stride into the lab like he owned the place and where he didn't try to steal body parts from her, so he could do another meaningless experiment on it.

Her eyes held so much pain. He couldn't bear it.

It was like his brain shut off at this point. Something it never did. 

He placed one of his hands on her cheek and tilted her head up so he could kiss her with ease. 

It was a soft one. One that meant so much. 

So many unspoken words. So many 'What if's'. 

Her lips were soft on his own. He had thought about what they'd feel like from time to time and was really glad he had got to experience it before his demise.

When the kiss ended, they both stared into each others eyes and a second later, he was carrying her into her bedroom.

He would die. He might as well enjoy one last night with the woman he fell in love with. __

_Today_

“I said I'm fine, Mycroft. Stop caring so much, for god's sake.”

He shoved the nurse away that tried to get another blood sample of him, who finally had enough of him and left the room.

While the nurse left, John entered it, with Mary and a little girl - who must've been their daughter - behind him.

“John! It's good to see you again, tell me, how boring has your life been from a scale..-”

He was interrupted when John hugged his best friend tightly. 

"You cock! You utter, cock."

Rosie laughed because of her father swearing so much.

Mary didn't care enough to point out to John that Rosie was present. She was just glad to see Sherlock breathe.

“Do you all have to be so emotional? Frankly, it's quite annoying. And BORING.”

“Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade are already on their way. They should be here soon," John said when he took a step back, trying to get his emotions under control.

Holmes nodded and tried not to think about the fact that one person wasn't mentioned or present so far.

Rosie started to get hungry and cranky, so John picked her up and went down to the cafeteria with her, while Mycroft went out of the room for a quick phone call to inform his parents about their second favorite son – Mycroft's words.

As if Mary had read Sherlock's earlier thoughts, she sat down on the side of his bed and took his hand.

“She's safe. But we didn't call her yet.”

He didn't look at her. He didn't want her to think that he thought about a certain pathologist. 

“Sherlock, there's something you should probably know. About.. Molly.”

That got his attention and he looked at Mary. 

He tried his best to deduce anything, but Mary had always been hard to read. Ever since he found out the truth about her.

She tried to find the best way to tell him, but couldn't find the right words. So she just went for it.

“She's a mother now. Has a son.”

Oh. 

“His name is Oliver. He's quite the lovely young boy. A lot like his father, if you ask me.”

He should be glad she moved on. It's been five years after all.

And she had always wanted a family.

“Are you understanding what I'm saying, Sherlock?" she asked after he didn't respond.

“Molly Hooper is a mother and a wife now, congratulations to her boring life, anything else? I'd like to enjoy my peace before Mrs. Hudson comes and destroys it all," he tried to make it sound like he didn't care. But Mary knew he was, in fact, caring quite a lot.

“You bloody git. The boy is five. FIVE, Sherlock.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly closed it again.

Only now did he realize that they didn't use a condom and he knew that Molly didn't take the pill.

_A few hours later_

Despite of the doctor's wish for Sherlock to remain a little longer in the hospital – just to make sure that he really was fine – he checked out basically right after Mary had told him about Molly and was now on his way to her apartment.

For the first time in his life, he genuienly didn't know what to do.

Was he ready to be a father? Did Molly even want him to be in their son's life? Did Oliver want him in his life? 

Questions like those flew around his mind and only stopped when the woman he last saw five years ago opened the door, just like she did on the day he left her.

Neither of them said anything. Molly was too shocked, Sherlock didn't know what to say.

He heard the voice of a young boy behind Molly.

“Mummy? Could I please have some tea?”, she certainly taught him manners. Good for her.

When his mother didn't respond he came to check out what was going on.

“Hello. I'm Oliver,” he held out his hand and smiled at Sherlock. 

God, he looked so much like himself. His hair was a mess of wild, dark curls, but his eyes were brown like his mother's. High cheekbones like his own and a smile that could match his.

“Oliver, can you please go to your room? I'll make some tea in a moment.”

He looked up to his mother, obviously trying to get her to let him stay and talk to the man, but one look from her was enough and he went to his room with a defeated sigh.

She returned her attention back to Sherlock.

“You said..-”

“I know what I said. I was wrong. Happens, apparently.”

Her emotions were a mix of anger, happiness, relieve, hurt.. But she decided to sling her arms around his shoulder instead of punching him.

“I thought you were dead. All those years, I thought..,” she didn't finish, simply let her tears make their way down her face.

A little unsure, he returned the hug and buried his nose in her long hair.

He had missed the smell of lavender. After all those years, she still smelled just like last time. Only now did he realize just how much he had actually missed everything about her.

They spent a few minutes, simply holding each other, before sitting down on the couch.

Sherlock started telling her everything that had happened. How he infiltrated a secret Russian army base and went undercover for five years. A mission that was supposed to end in his death in less than one. He barely made it out alive, but five years was a long time to make allies.

That's why Mycroft had been wrong and thought it was a suicide mission.

Thanks to John Watson, he now was able to form alliances and realize that sometimes, alone wasn't what you needed to protect yourself.

Molly listened to every word and held his hand during the entire thing. It's like she was scared that if she let go, he would leave again.

“I'm glad you're alive and safe. Really. Just.. can't quite believe it yet,” she smiled after he was done.

He nodded and waited for her to say something about Oliver. When she didn't..-

“So.. Oliver,” he started.

“Yes. I don't have to tell you that he's..-

“Mine? No. Mary told me. But it's not hard to tell when you look at him.”

She laughed.

“He does look quite a lot like you, doesn't he?”

Sherlock nodded and turned a little to look at her properly.

“Does he know about me?”

“I've told him that you're dead. But he knows you're name. Haven't shown him any pictures yet, which is why he didn't recognize you earlier.”

Another nod from Sherlock.

“How are you feeling about this?”

She never expected him to come back in the first place so she never had to think about what his opinion on the matter was. Until now.

“I don't know.”

“Would you like me to tell him who you are?”

He thought about it for a little while.

Not once in his life did he think about having a child of his own. He had no experience with children or whatsoever, but Oliver was his son and he wouldn't abandon him, because he was too scared to play the part of the father.

“Yes. I'd like that.”


End file.
